


Somnuim

by MccoyKat



Series: Violence Inherent in the System [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Disabled Character, Erik has Issues, Erik is a Sweetheart, Human Experimentation, Insomnia, Mutant Powers, Past Child Abuse, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MccoyKat/pseuds/MccoyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally just a character study for an alternate universe I'm trying to form. What would the relationship be like if Erik was younger than Charles? What if Erik was his student?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somnuim

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing about characters who can't sleep because then they feel my pain. I also wanted to break in a new laptop.

Professor Charles Xavier had run his own boarding school for mutants for only about a year when he met Erik for the first time. Erik had been held in some military base since he was about eight years old. A file somewhere probably said he’d been held and experimented on for reasons of national security.

He was thirteen when Moira brought him to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Charles had expected the regular turmoil that he would from any sort of abused child. However, aside from a quiet sort of defiance, Erik hadn’t caused much trouble at all.

The quiet defiance came into play whenever he was asked a question in class. Erik had written everything down, and Charles himself had checked to make sure the boy was writing out his notes properly. Erik tested well. Erik also refused to talk in almost any situation. He wouldn’t answer questions or requests, even when directly asked, and he generally didn’t talk at all. in fact, most of his conversation skills came in the form of a raised eyebrow or a glare that could probably kill kittens.

Erik had none of the violent outbursts that Charles had expected, nor did he have any of the anger that was supposed to resonate from an abused teen.

Oh, he was angry all right. Charles brushed by his head almost every day, trying to make sure that Erik was still safe to be around the other students. He was very angry, all of the anger was rolling around in his head, yet there was no desire to act on the anger and guilt that completely filled his mind.

Most of the children two dozen children at the school had come to Charles came because their families could no longer support them while their mutation manifested. That was a type of support that Charles knew he could supply. Yet Moira had brought in this teenager from an extraction mission.

Charles had read books on abused children and teens, dozens of them. Erik matched none of the symptoms, and to be honest, Charles was a bit confused at first, but then decided it must be because it wasn't a normal kind of abuse. Having your humanity stripped away from you was different from being told you're worthless.

*****

Charles did the nighttime rounds of the dorm rooms every other night. Hank did it when Charles didn’t. It hadn’t taken long for Charles to notice that Erik was almost always awake when he went by.

His room was always dark, but his mind was always a flurry of activity, impossible not to pick up over the current of subconscious that filled up most of the hallway. Sometimes Charles would sooth a nightmare, or try and rid a student of their angst. However, most of the time he left them well enough alone. Charles tried to stick to the surface of most people’s minds anyway. Especially with students like Erik, who had requested he stay out of their minds.

However, he was so focused on the particularly bad nightmare of Scott Summers, he almost missed the fact that Erik’s light was on.

There was a semi-strict policy about a ten forty-five lights out. Of course, they would forgive five or so minutes if a shower ran late. And for the most part, it was just to ensure that almost everyone was asleep by eleven. The younger children had an earlier lights out policy of nine forty-five for the same reason.

Erik had been at the house for about a month and a half, so he wasn’t new per say. Charles couldn’t continue to let the rules slide, even if he knew that Erik was still adjusting. It would make it easier for him to adjust to the rules if they were enforced, Charles reasoned.

He lightly knocked on the door, waiting for a sort of surprise or stillness. None came, and Charles only waited about three seconds before the door unlocked and opened.

Erik was standing in front of Charles, looking sleepy and absolutely harmless.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something,” Charles said mildly, and checked his watch, “but lights out was at ten forty-five. That was three hours ago.”

“‘m sorry. I couldn’t sleep anyway. I thought I might as well do something useful,” mumbled the teen, trying to stifle a yawn.

“You’re exhausted love, you should try and get some sort of sleep. You have to be up in five hours. Besides, what could be so important that now is the best time to do it?” Charles chided gently. This was one of two speeches that he had about sleep. There was this gentle coaxing one, as well as a more firm one. Erik didn’t seem to be breaking the rules out of spite, but rather, as a quick brush on his mind revealed, out of the actual inability to sleep.

“My room is a mess. I will clean it, then go to bed.” Erik conceded, then turned and went to close the door. It was as close to an apology as Charles was going to get.

“Would you like a hand?” Charles asked, mostly because he didn’t believe that Erik would actually fall asleep.

“Professor, I should be able to manage.”

“Alright then, what if I said I don’t believe you?” Charles insisted, “I feel like if I leave now, you’ll just continue on doing what you’ve been doing the past several weeks. I know you’ve been staying up Erik, and that isn’t healthy.”

Erik didn’t move for what felt like a solid minute, then he opened the wider and let Charles slide his wheelchair through.

There were metal bits all over the room. Springs, screws, nails and hinges were covering almost every surface of the room. They had clearly all been nicked from somewhere, but Charles decided to ignore that.

“You’ve been practising!” Charles said instead, actually quite pleased. Erik would end up being very powerful if he put in the work, “This should take us no time to clean up then.”

Charles noticed a rather large, empty metal bucket sitting in the corner of the room.

“Is that where they go? Carry on, then. I’d love to watch.”

Erik looked a little conflicted. He especially had been taught that his mutation meant he was a freak of nature. He’d spent years being told he was less than human because of it, and now he was in an environment where it was celebrated. Charles knew that the years of conditioning would almost always have an affect on the boy, but hoped that they would be able to overcome it in the years Erik would be spending at the school.

Erik apparently steeled his resolve, and pointed his hand at the nearest clump of screws. Charles knew the technique well, if you gave yourself a part of the body to move your mutation through, it would often result in a more powerful, focused result.

The metal responded immediately, and Erik guided it to the bucket, and was a careful to make sure to let them down gently, rather than just drop in it the bucket like he normally did.

It took Erik around five minutes to clean up the room, with Charles gently criticising his technique here and there.

When the bucket was full of the metal knicknacks, Erik was finally able to bring himself to meet the professor’s eyes.

“That was wonderful Erik.” Charles stated cherrfully, “You’re getting much better at controlling small objects. We’ll have to try bigger ones next time. I think I should be able to find some gears or something.”

At the compliments of his teacher, Erik felt himself flushing. He was suddenly aware that he was standing in his pajamas, with his teacher at almost two in the morning.

“Yes, well done Erik,” Charles continued, suddenly a bit louder, breaking the hush, “But it's time for you to go to bed now."

Erik looked down at the made bed with distaste. He sighed but got in it, then looked at the professor to see if he would leave.

“There you go professor, I’m in bed. You can continue on your rounds.” Erik said, words coloured with spite.

“Nonsense.” Insisted Charles, “There is a difference between being in bed and going to sleep. You’ve been in bed every night for the past several weeks, but you haven’t been asleep. What’s keeping you up?”

Erik sighed, but didn’t say anything. He knew it was a long story. He remembered a time before the base. He’d slept fine then. Of course, once he’d become an experiment, there was no sleep schedule for him. His life had become dictated by when they wanted to prod him. To keep him awake or asleep when they’d wanted his to be, his food had been kept full of various drugs that would keep him awake for hours, or push him to sleep before he’d even finished eating. Going to sleep without it now was almost impossible. There was also no way he wanted to start down this tale of woe at two in the morning, either. He stared at the wall across from his bed with a pointed look.

“Alright then,” Charles paused, considering, “if you’d like, I can help you?”

This got a reaction. Erik felt a rush of adrenaline through his body. Every student knew that Charles was a telepath, which was met with various levels of distrust and wonder. The first time Erik had actually said a word to him, it was to make him promise to stay out of his head.

“No no no no no! You _said_ you’d stay out. I don’t want you in my head! Not like her.” Erik paused, as though he’d let something slip, “I don’t want you in my room now, either.”

Charles’s heart ached for the boy in front of him. He didn’t want to know what the other telepath had done to Erik at the facility. He really didn’t, not now at least. It was a discussion for another day.

But for now, he had to deal with the health of his student.

“Ok Erik, I’ll leave." Charles spoke slowly and calmly, trying not to force any sort of infliction into his voice, "I’d never go into your head without explicit permission, alright? That was why I asked. I can help you, but if you don’t want me to, I won’t. Please though, try and rest. I don’t want you getting sick. We can look for a sleep aid for you if you’d like. I would like to talk about this later though. You are still growing, and still recovering. Sweetheart, sleep is something you _need."_ ”

Charles left the room after turning off the light. Erik used the metal in the doorknob to close it behind him with a dull thud. Charles heard the lock turn, keeping Erik’s room locked off from the rest of the world.

Erik lay in bed for another hour before he finally calmed down enough to fall asleep. The professor’s offer was tempting, once the immediate panic (and the professor) had left. But there was just so much about telepaths that he didn’t trust. He figured he be able to muddle through the next day. The professor had been right though, how much longer could he keep going off of the few hours of sleep he’d been getting.

He rolled over in his bed, and finally, _finally_ felt his eyes slide closed.


End file.
